"The simulationist mess extends to the wanderers table for the wilderness trip to the ruins. “You see a squirrel and it runs away”, along with a separate entry for a rabbit and fox and … a bird. What?!?! No mention of the fallen tree limb that stands its ground, unwilling to yield to the party’s approach?!?!?"
Friday, 8 June 2012
No Mind Of My Own
But only a heap of influences, burning with a low, blue flame.
(I wish. None of my players are girls, or likely to play one.)
(Fancy name for Specialist, which is a fancy name for thief.)